Work Text:
Alarm bells were wailing. Bucky felt a prickle through his whole body in fear of the noise. Then his eyes opened. The alarm was next to him. The ceiling was wooden, just above his head. It was dark in his room. He lived in the attic of the orphanage he grew up in. The attic couldn’t be used for any purpose after some new standard regulation laws about orphanages were passed a few years ago. If a health inspector ever showed up, he was suppose to say he was squatting. He got to shutting his alarm off, it read 10:03.
“Shit!” Bucky fell out of the bed, he was already going to be late, that was the fifth alarm. He ran into his pants and wrestled with his shirt as he got closer to the stairs. He shoved everything on the night stand into his backpack then he gave the floor one good stomp and the stairs fell out in front of him. He was running. “Ma! The stairs are down! I’m sorry!” and his feet were banging over pavement. He didn’t stop at his usual local coffee shop, he couldn’t run with a coffee in hand. He got on two different busses, anxiously tapping out his lateness on his thigh. It was times like this he really needed an mp3 player, something by Ludo could get him feeling comfortable.
~
He could see his school building from the bus stop, and the Starbucks that was between the two. Perfect. He tromped in, thinking vaguely he must look like a mess. He hadn’t taken off his eye liner from the night before. He stopped thinking about it.
“Good morning, welcome to Starbucks.” A smiling blue eyed blonde greeted him from the other side of the counter, Bucky gawked, his hair was slicked, his clothes had no stains on them, they looked brand new. Bucky couldn’t imagine how anyone managed to look so put together before 11 AM. The blonde’s smiled faltered and Bucky realized he had been staring.
“Black, three sugars.” He said, as he fumbled his wallet from his pants. “Please,” he added.
“M’kay,” The cashier's hand hovered over the row of cups. “What size?”
“Small.”
“And what’s your name?”
“Bucky.”
The blonde nodded and passed his cup along, Bucky went to go stand at the pick up area.
~
Bucky studied bioengineering. He struggled with some aspects of it, particularly the concepts, but being able to do hands-on work is what made him shine. He walked into his 11 o’clock class at 11:15. The class was only an hour and he felt bad. It was also his only Monday class, which made him feel worse.
An hour after that he was in the bathroom, although he hadn’t eaten yet today. He leaned over his knees, clutching his left arm in his right. He was examining it closely. The skin blemishes and slight hair amazed him. The inside was lighter and the outside was darker and there was a perfect gradient that matched his right arm. It wasn’t skin though, this was just a slip made for his arm. He was self-conscious of it. You couldn’t tell by looking at it, but touching his arm, he could feel the hard metal just out of reach. He didn’t let people touch him.
He shifted his weight as he leaned back and he felt a wetness on the toilet seat. He groaned. He cleaned himself up and stood up, looking back, it wasn’t someone’s piss, it was blood. His blood. Not a lot of blood, however it made his heart shoot two speeds up and his lungs fall into his empty stomach. He rolled out toilet paper and wiped all the blood up. He left the stall with his pants at his thighs and faced his ass toward the bathroom mirror.
There it was. In a neat scrawl, there was effort in this hand writing, each letter was considered. It read ‘Good morning, welcome to Starbucks.” With all the necessary capitalization and punctuation. It covered his left ass cheek.
Bucky let out the air he was holding. His blood felt like ice. He pulled the bathroom trash toward him, and pulled out the Starbucks cup that laid on top of it. He held it next to his ass and compared it in the mirror. The ‘uck’ was identical in both places.
“Uck.” Bucky dropped the cup in the trash again. “I’m . . . Gay?” he pushed the trashcan back. He pulled up his pants and picked up his bag from the stall. He was moving slow, but his mind was racing. He started to walk back toward the Starbucks. It was in his sight. He checked the time. 12:47.
“Nope.” Bucky made a 180 and started walking toward midtown. He had work at 1.
~
Stark Tower was a buzz, as it always was, but everyone was moving slow and speaking in whispers compared to Bucky’s head. He worked on the 30th floor, in an office, keeping records and doing what needed to be done from the prosthetics department. He was the receptionist, and he wasn’t being productive today, not that he ever really was, but today especially. Papers fell off his desk. He missed a phone call. It was nearly 3 when he finally came to the conclusion, out loud, “Bisexual.”
“What?” Maria said, sarcastically looking up, annoyed, she hated Bucky and Bucky knew it. He wasn’t helpful around the office and his hand-me-down clothes were obvious compared to everyone’s formal office attire. He made everyone else look bad.
He swiveled away from her and put his head back into his desk. Only two hours left. He was going to dash to that Starbucks when he got out.
Once making this decision, work became easier. His head settled and agreed to deal with this situation later instead of continuing to stress himself out.
An hour before it was quitting time, Tony Stark barged into the office doors, drink in hand and smiling to himself. The office fell dead silent for two agonizing seconds then resumed the same noises of work, but faster. “Oh good, you’re still here.” Tony jaunted over to Bucky’s desk and placed the amber liquid down on it.
Tony was the only reason Bucky was at this company at all. Tony was his boss, not the head of the department, or even Tony’s assistant as it was with most people. Tony, in some ways, felt like a strange uncle.
“You’re arm was giving me weird readings today.” Tony came around the desk, not looking for Bucky’s permission to start fiddling with the prosthetic. He was pulling the slip off. “You’re at work, so I’m going to assuming nothing shocking or life changing happened today, that would affect some of the circuits. I also don’t know how getting marked would affect it. I wonder if the tattoo would appear on the metal . . .” Tony stopped rambling when he pulled a panel off. There was an LCD screen, portraying some readings.
“Why did you come in today!?” Tony put the panel back on.
“I uh . . .” How do you explain to a billionaire about college debt? “Need the hours.”
Tony’s nose twitched. He genuinely cared for the kid. It was his own daddy issues that really stopped him from bringing them closer. He forced himself into a not-asking policy about Bucky’s home life. “Listen, kid, you got a week of paid leave starting now.” Tony threw the slip into Bucky’s lap. “When you get marked, your body releases a chemical for a week that makes it easier to find each other again. It will make sense.” Tony gave him one good pat on the back and left, as swiftly as he arrived.
Bucky sat stunned for a moment, clutching the slip. Tony proved his craziness over and over again. He slowly secured the slip back on. He had to get to Starbucks. He gathered all his stuff and slung his bag over his shoulder. He downed the rest of the drink Tony left behind. His heart was thumping before he made the lobby.
He sprinted the five blocks. Nearly took the door of the hinges as he entered the coffee shop. Every face looked at him and Bucky saw the problem immediately. His barista from the morning wasn’t there. He walked up to the counter. “Hello, my name is Bucky, I was in this morning.” He spoke fast, the cashier didn’t look impressed. “I uh . . . Was wondering who was working this cash register this morning.”
The girl waved her hand. “I dunno, the new guy.” She looked like she wasn’t going to say more, but Bucky gawked at her. She turned to address the baristas. “Who’s the new guy?”
“Steve. Something. I dunno, it was his first day”
Steve.
Bucky repeated the name in his head. It meant nothing to him. He didn’t even know any Steves.
“When does he work again?” Bucky spoke slower, he didn’t want to seem to eager.
“Wednesday.”
Bucky nodded. He had the information. He stared for longer than he should have, the baristas all got back to work. He walked out slowly. There was no satisfaction in the information he had, just a time to show up and see him again, days later. Bucky dragged his feet on the way to the bus stop. He missed his bus by a minute, and sat down. He kicked his feet. Steve. He thought again. His chest began to get tight. Water started to build up in his eyes.
He couldn’t stop looking. He had a name. Bucky stood up. He looked up and down both sides of the street. He didn’t even know where to begin. He had a first name and a job. He sat back down, waiting was inevitable.
~
A pit formed in his stomach as he turned onto his street. Steve would be looking for him by now too. Why didn’t he leave something for him at Starbucks? A message or a note. Bucky’s shoulders were slumped as he marched up the stoop of his stairs. What if Steve didn’t get marked?
It wasn’t, strictly speaking, rare. The soulmate marking system was a flexible thing. Everyone would get one in their lifetime, if they met the right person, but their was more than one, and sometimes marks didn’t line up with each other. Marks could fade and completely disappear. They came in all colors of the rainbow to mean different things. Bucky’s was black, and it had bled. Those were both the most common traits of being marked. There were theories about mark placement, but nothing was ever proven.
Bucky could feel the ground sway beneath him at the thought of being a single mark. He’d never thought he’d get marked any time soon, so he never put much thought into it, but now that it was here, Bucky would have killed to have more time to prepare.
In high school is where they taught students about being marked, it was an extension of heath class. Bucky had missed a lot of that in place of other classes. He had gotten a gangrene infection in his arm that year and six months later Tony had offered him to be a test subject for new prosthetics, it’s not like Bucky had a choice to say yes or no, which Bucky and the orphanage suspected is the only reason he was asked to participate.
He did however know marking was a big deal. His younger sister had gotten hers fairly recently. The orphanage had been abuzz with life afterwards. Ma made a cake and gave her a new make-up kit, she had to fill out a form with the state and declare her new status. The state kept a record of marked and unmarked people and whether or not they were a single or a couple to make finding others easier. It wasn’t illegal not to declare, just frowned upon.
Bucky wasn’t up for the hullabaloo over it. Telling his Ma sounded like a horrible idea. She hadn’t even ever adopted him, he just lived with her.
~
Bucky woke up in the night sweating, not uncommon in summer, but unheard of in fall. It was a cold sweat, he felt drenched. The dream he was having escaped his memory and like running water anxiety rushed in, followed by a physical pain. He heaved breaths. He felt the pain over his chest, shoulder and upper arm, it felt like he was being pushed chest-first into a fire pit. It was a need to be held so physically compelling and strong Bucky wanted to scream. He wrapped his own arm around himself, leaving the left one to prop himself up. He gasped in relief. The overlying need remained, but he fell back asleep before dwelling much on it.
~
He woke up on time Tuesday to his first alarm. His usual morning routine included him making his bed, carefully drawing on eyeliner and selecting his clothes. His clothes didn’t necessarily need to be clean to look clean, at least he always thought, though this particular morning he seemed self conscious about it. His soul mate was out there, they could bump into each other. He ended up covering himself in his baggiest and cleanest sweater. He brushed and slicked back his short hair with more attention than usual.
He was satisfied with the look when he left the house. He had an English class at 9 today and an advanced physics class at 11. He didn’t have work, so he decided to do some research after lunch.
He got coffee at his usual place, he wasn’t ready to deal with Starbucks yet.
~
By one he was logging into the library’s computer. He had the wikipedia page up for Soulmate Markings. He read it intently.
The first marking ever received will be the darkest and last the longest, it will actually pale other markings if it hasn’t faded away before a second one is received. No person has received two markings within a 20 year span.
Side effects of being marked were listed at the bottom. There were consequences to ignoring the mark or avoiding the marker, even if it wasn’t your fault, it still applied. The side affects of avoiding could kill people. The wiki referenced a young lady so ashamed to be coupled with another girl she convinced herself she hadn't been marked yet. She died two months later in her sleep, acid burns covering her shoulders and chest.
Bucky touched his flesh shoulder gently.
The article went onto explain this specific side effect can be avoided simply by being embraced physically by the marker. Avoiding them or ignoring the mark after embracing can result in chemical imbalances within the body and varying degrees of mental instability. The only way not to get adverse effects of ignoring your marker is to resolve them in your life, by spending time with them, learning them until satisfaction is reached. The general time period for this is three months to two years.
Negative effects of avoidance can start as early as an hour after the first words. They only escalate as time continues.
Removing, damaging, or permanently covering marks combine with avoiding the marker can result in shortening of life, altered perception of reality (to a minute degree) and in most cases, death. More research needs to be conducted, all information available is inconclusive due to lack of variety of subjects. Due to a change in biochemistry when the mark appears, a need to protect that part of the body as much as the head or gut area is activated in the brain. Not many damaged or otherwise altered markings have been reported.
Damaging or otherwise altering the mark while maintaining constant contact with the marker will have little to no side effects. People away from their marker when damage or altering occurs are advised to return to their marker as quickly as possible to avoid life threatening complications.
Bucky’s heart was beating fast, he was as still as he could hold himself. He had time, but not much. The memory of what happen last night came back to him, the pain was very real. His chest tingled at the memory. He put his hand on his ass lightly. It was a provocative position and he stopped immediately. He hoped that placement had some meaning. He wondered then where Steve's was placed. Where would Bucky have marked Steve? Bucky smiled at the thought.
He went on to research the release of a chemical when the tattoo is first placed.
He found more about it on a theoretical science forum than anywhere else. The user ‘IronPlayboyMan’ seemed to be pulling information right out of his ass.
It’s definitely real, we use brain scans to find where on the body it is located, but we can be as simple as blood samples within the first week to confirm. Making it a law to register marks in the first week is the only logical route. Everyone subject I’ve tested is positive for this condition.
Bucky squinted at the screen. IronPlayboyMan could talk the science but didn’t mention once how the chemical allows the marked to find each other, he only alluded to it. Bucky looked into IronPlayboyMan’s profile. In big bold letters at the top it read ‘Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist, Tony Stark’
Bucky groaned, but he smiled. Looks like he was going to work anyway. He pulled out his phone and texted Tony. ‘Need help from IronPlayboyMan, I’m coming over in 20.’
~
“It’s physical, but it’s . . . “ Tony was flustered. He wasn’t often flustered. “I’ll get an expert.” Tony pushed a button. “Pepper, your presence is requested.” Tony sat back. “So how is the quest going?”
They were seated in a room outside Tony’s main office, it was completely with magazines and a fully stocked bar, a coffee table was between them.
Bucky scoffed at the use of the word quest. “Uh . . . They work again tomorrow morning.”
Tony raised his eyebrow. “Did you figure out a name?”
“Sort of, it’s com—“
Pepper clicked her way off the elevator. “Tony, the Hungarian ambassador requires my full attention I can’t just—“
“I’ll do it.” Tony was on the elevator before Pepper could protest. She huffed before addressing Bucky with a well-what-did-I-expect-am-I-right face.
“What did he say I’m an expert on now?” Pepper sat down where Tony had been across from Bucky. She picked up his champagne from the coffee table without batting an eyelash.
“Finding your marker. There’s a way to do it, physically?” Bucky was feeling anxious explaining this to Pepper. She was a powerful lady. But she smiled sheepishly at his words and Bucky felt more at ease.
“Yes, in the first week, more or less. What you’re experiencing chemically is a lot like the body while menstruating. It becomes emotional, volatile, and fully of extremes. Some people don’t notice it at all. Other’s never forget. It is more prominent for someone who has never experience menstruation before.” Pepper paused to gauge Bucky’s acceptance of this information.Bucky’s brow was furrowed, but he was watching her, waiting.
“When you are physically closer together, the emotions get the most torrid. Having emotions running wild when two soul mates first meet helps to solidify a lasting bond. You may be more likely to cry, get angry, or experience unexplainable happiness this week than any week before, the stronger the emotions, the closer you are, physically and emotionally to your marker. It’s strange, but it will settle into normality before you know it.” Pepper was smiling at Bucky, who was now, glaring at the coffee table. He had teared up yesterday over just looking at his prosthetic. Had Steve been near him then?! Do they go to the same school?
Bucky stood up fast, he could use this to find Steve right now. Pepper took a sip, watching him, waiting. “Thank you Pepper.” He sat back down. “But is there a way, I can use that on a bigger scale? Like can I walk around the city and log where and when I feel the most emotional?”
Pepper smirked, knowingly. “That is exactly what you can do, Bucky.”
Bucky grinned a grin Pepper never saw before. She thought it looked quite good on him. “Thank you. Thank you.” He was out the door the very next second and Pepper leaned back on the sofa.
“Just like you, Tony.”
“Get in here.” Tony said over the speakers.
~
Bucky scoured the midtown lower Manhattan areas. He was guaranteed to see Steve tomorrow morning, but he had time now. It was after dark when he silently opened his front door. Nobody left dinner for him. Something down the hall smelt like shit, but he didn’t have the patience for it. He trudged up the four flights of stairs before he was standing under his door way. Maneuvering up into the attic was a struggle, Bucky was tired. His eyelids were heavy. He collapsed face first into the pillow.
~
It was raining out when he woke up, but that’s not what woke him. He was screaming. His skin was burning against the bed. He couldn’t breathe. He was gulping when hands came down on his shoulders. “Jamie, Jamie snap out of it boy, what’s wrong?”
His Ma. Bucky didn’t think before wrapping his arms around her. He was crying into her shirt as the pain subsided. She was rubbing his back, cooing him like she did with the babies. His breathing evened out. She held him there and he felt safe, if only life could be a mother’s hug forever he thought, passingly. After a long moment, she laid him back down on the bed, moving his limbs and fluffing his pillow for him. He would never be able to express his gratitude for this.
She leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Go to her. You are worth it.” She went downstairs and her words left Bucky grateful and anxious. Grateful, she knew, he had struggled his whole life with seeing himself as being worth his own effort, let alone others’. He had a phase where he refused to meet new people, so he could avoid making someone suffer him as a soul mate. He improved after getting his prosthetic and being able to work at Stark Industries. Anxious, this wasn’t a heterosexual relationship. And people got friendship marks, but this was not the case, there wasn’t a doubt in Bucky’s mind at all.
He drifted into a restless sleep.
~
He was up at his first alarm. He was ready ten minutes later. His schedule today was the same as his schedule on Monday, bioengineering, then, well, not work. He was out the door at 9.
He was antsy, nervous, he came up with a plan. Whenever Steve’s shift was over, Bucky would spend the afternoon with him, the whole afternoon, whatever seems like a good idea. He suddenly became aware of his lack of funds.
Getting off the bus Bucky nearly forgot how to walk. He was all nerves from head to toe. The short two blocks from the bus stop to the Starbucks took years. Bucky actually had a button down shirt on, that he cleaned this morning, he knew he looked nice but he felt rather stupid in it. He was grateful that he had still put on his eyeliner.
As usual there wasn’t a line. It was 10:03 when he entered, with his head down, he wasn’t thinking to breathe. He looked up when he finally got to the counter. Bubble gum snapped in his face.
“What can I get you, looser?” The ever beautiful, ever sassy Natasha stood, hand on her hip.
“Tasha . . .” Bucky muttered.
“What was that? I can’t hear you, speak up.”
Bucky finally started breathing again. “Black, three sugars, Natasha what are you doing here?”
“Working. Started today. I’m new.” She smiled her sarcastic smile as she wrote on his large cup. “You look snazzy today, got a hot date?”
Bucky tried to resist the urge to blush. She charged him for a small.
“I’ll take that as a yes. What do they look like? How’d you meet?”
“Actually, he’s also a new hire here. Steve. He was suppose to be working today.” Bucky was okay with offhandedly mentioning the possibly-half-gay thing to Natasha. They weren’t super close, but they’d known each other a long time. He regretted it immediately when it looked like her eyebrows were going to shoot off her face. “He--”
The barista making Bucky’s drink leaned into their conversation. “He was fired this morning. Came in late with a face looking like my mom's sloppy Joe’s. Boss said he couldn’t have those types of punks working here.”
Bucky was speechless. Natasha shrugged toward him. The put together almost yuppy looking kid was in a fight?! He was still standing at the cash register when Natasha handed over his drink.
“Hey, if you’re looking for him that bad he goes to NYU, studies art and history, lives somewhere in the East side.”
Bucky resisted the urge to write that all down. He checked the time. 10:20. He decided class was for people who didn’t feel like a chicken with the head cut off. “Where do you think he is right now?” he met Natasha in the eyes, she picked up on his vibes, she always did, she was good like that.
“I would check NYU’s campus, hopefully the nurse’s office.”
Bucky was gone before catching another word, his coffee left on the counter.
~
NYU was huge. The nurse’s office had nothing, and didn’t release any information to him. He cursed to himself and left, running again. He ran until a tower clock struck 12 and he sat down on some cement steps. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream. Why was all of this worth it anyway? Bucky felt like a mad man right now, and for what? It all stopped making sense to him. He leaned back and curled up into himself. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t even care if people were staring, he was sweating, he was cranky, he was . . . Cranky, cranky! He didn’t feel right. He was emotional. He sat up like lightning struck. He looked at every face before him, the steps were full. People surrounded him.
Every blonde head looked like a beacon. Bucky heaved his chest. His moment of clear headedness was fading. He leaned his face into his hands when a hand came down on his back. It rubbed circles there and a voice came with it.
“I found you.” The voice was deep and calm. He spoke quietly, only for Bucky to hear.
Bucky turned to him and relief flooded his system. This was right, this was balanced. “Steve” he said, bringing his right hand up to touch the other’s face. He had a black eye, small cuts over the opposite eyebrow and his bottom lip was cut open. Bucky touched ever so lightly. Steve stayed still, a smile forming on his lips, no evidence on his face said he was in pain, though the injuries were clear.
“I don’t . . .” Steve started forming a full body blush. “I didn’t remember what your name was.” He looked down, smiling sheepishly.
“It’s James, I guess, call me Bucky.” Bucky was watching Steve more intensely than he’s watched anything else in his life. Steve opened his mouth to say something and Bucky cut him off. “What the hell did you let happen to your face?”
Steve’s jaw moved up and down, shocked by the question. “These guys, on my street, they were . . . Following this girl. I just stepped in . . .”
Bucky sighed but smiled, he started to stand up, helping Steve with him. “I’m taking you to the nurse first and then . . .” Bucky fumbled, not having given making it this far any thought.
“Coffee.” Steve perked up. “I’ll never forget your coffee order.”
Bucky blushed as they walked. “And I’ll never forget your worked at Starbucks for like a day.”
Steve laughed and started picking up the hem of his shirt. “Here.”
Bucky stopped walking to look at Steve’s stomach, flat as the desert, the kid was a toothpick, it worried Bucky about his home life, but he put that thought aside for now. In a half circle over his navel was a dark chicken scratch reading ‘black three sugars.’ Bucky brought his hand up to brush his fingers over it but he stopped himself halfway and leaned away.
Steve took Bucky’s hand in his and directed his fingers to the mark. It was raised over Steve’s soft skin and Bucky just wanted to touch more. He pulled his hand away with a jerk. “Sorry.” He muttered. “I will show you mine . . . But not here.”
Steve raised an eyebrow at that, he held his hand out, cautiously motioning it to Bucky. Bucky placed his hand into Steve’s and they walked on, in silence for now. Their shoulders bumped and jostled. They stole as many glances at each other as possible. Bucky liked the silence. He hand far to many questions to ask, but taking it slow was a route he preferred.
“Where do you live?” Steve asked as they entered a residence hall where the nurse’s office was.
“In Brooklyn.” Bucky supplied and went on. “I study bioengineering and I work at the Stark Tower. I guess, somehow, I ended up with a put-together life.” He shrugged and gestured to Steve.
“I live on the East side of midtown, in an apartment with my cat, Phil, I study art and history. I don’t really have a job, I’ve been trying, but things get complicated.” Steve slumped his shoulders as they entered the nurse’s office.
“Hey Bruce. It’s uh, me again.” Steve called into the seemingly empty office and they both sat down on the waiting chairs.
“Steve!” A call came from the back office. “Just come in, I have stuff laid out, Sam was already here and said he’d kill you if you didn’t show up before he found you.”
Steve laughed easy and gestured for Bucky to follow him. “I have a new friend with me today.”
Bucky smiled as he followed. Steve had people who cared for him. Bucky felt a weight lift off his chest he didn’t even know was there.
Bruce worked silently, placing butterfly bandages on his face and a cream over his eye. Steve exposed one of his shoulders where a gash was just on the skin.
“They didn’t pull a knife on you did they?” Bruce asked as he set to work. Steve fiddled with the material of his shirt. “Steve” Bruce groaned. Bucky tightened his body, how close Steve was to being fatally injured made him want to tear down a wall. It had hardly been an hour now and Bucky felt an unprecedented urge to watch out for Steve’s safety.
~
This coffee shop was packed. It was two levels, with wooden floors and a real log-cabin type feel to it. Steve ordered for both of them. Bucky cataloged that Steve drank chai tea and not coffee. They secured a table on the second floor by a window. Bucky gripped his cup with both hands, coaxing it to cool off more. Steve drank his tea with ease.
“Did you live in Brooklyn your whole life?”
“No, I’ve moved all over New York City . . . “ Bucky trailed, he wanted to explain that he never had parents without dwelling on it. “I’m an orphan.”
Steve went solemn and nodded. “Me too.” Bucky gave Steve a curious look. “Not my whole life . . . But I have good memories of my parents and thats whats important.” Steve smiled into his tea. Bucky wanted to ask more, but didn’t want the afternoon to take that direction.
“I’ve always been an orphan.” Bucky took a sip of his coffee. He was feeling anxious again. Steve reached over the table and took a hold of Bucky’s right hand.
He looked Bucky directly in the eye, “Don’t over think things today.” He released him and smiled, his eyes looking at Bucky through long blonde eyelashes. “Here, I have something for you.” Steve bent away and put both hands in his left side pocket. They emerged with a thick silver chain. “My dad bought this for my mom the day they met. She hoped I’d give it to you. Two days late but . . .” Steve shrugged. He laid it out on the table, holding both ends. Bucky considered briefly which hand it should go on. He wanted to only put his flesh hand close to Steve, he wasn’t ready for him to find out yet. But the idea of having the chain as a marker over his metal arm was . . . Appealing.
He took the risk, placing his metal wrist between Steve’s two flesh hands. Their skin didn’t even graze while Steve fastened it. Bucky held his wrist then, bringing it close to his chest, It felt strange to have the slip between two pieces of metal.
“Thank you.”
~
Bucky insisted he walk Steve home.
“I’m not going to get in another fight, that only happens like, once a week.”
Bucky felt the blood drain right out of his face. “Well, if I walk you home I’ll feel better about it.”
Steve actually rolled his eyes at that. “I’ll give you that one. Let’s go.” They left their position on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop and started walking East. It wasn’t long before they were holding hands again.
~
They arrived at an apartment building eventually. Bucky was amazed and shocked. This was the nicest part of town, the apartments here were some of the nicest in the city. Steve swiped them in and they rode the elevator up three floors. Bucky looked at everything. The entryway was all marble and metal. The elevator was a smooth ride with mirrors on all four walls and a touch screen activated navigation. The elevator let them out into a corridor with three doors. Steve led them into the furthest one down.
The apartment was clean and relatively bare. The kitchen and living room opened up into each other, there was two other doors off the living room and that looked like it.
“This is the smallest apartment in the building.” Steve gestured to the living room. “That’s Phil. On the couch.”
Bucky looked to see a huge Russian Blue cat, eyeing him as he stood up and stretched. He walked around Steve’s legs while still watching Bucky suspiciously.
“He’ll get used to you.” Steve assured before meandered into the kitchen, “Can I get you something?” he opened a cabinet and pulled out cat food.
Bucky walked up to the kitchen counter opposite Steve. “Water is fine. This is the nicest apartment I’ve ever been in.” That was a lie, he had been in Stark’s apartment, but Bucky didn’t want to count that, the circumstances were special and he wasn’t in his right head when it happen, he doesn’t remember it well.
Steve blushed. “It’s complicated . . . My parents both had life insurance when they passed. I uh, well, it was . . .” Bucky reached out and placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder, an explanation really wasn’t necessary. “A lot, I pay for this place on the interest alone.”
Bucky couldn’t help but look surprised. This was practically Stark-level money. (It wasn’t, Bucky just doesn’t have a concept of this.)
“Water.” Steve handed Bucky a cup. “How late can you stay?” He asked as he walked out of the kitchen so he could stand next to the other.
“I don’t really have anyone waiting on me.” Bucky’s stomach grumbled as he said that.
Steve laughed easily, “We’ll say 9 so you can get to Brooklyn at a reasonable time. Let me make you dinner.” Steve leaned over the counter and turned the stove on. “That should be ready soon. I put things in the oven in the morning so I can just come back and I don’t have to do any work.”
Bucky smiled at that, he worked with a similar mentality. Steve seemed to be staring at him now and Bucky made a curious face at him.
“You don’t smile easily.” Steve blushed. “It’s nice.”
Bucky blushed at that too and a new feeling came over him, a lightness in his chest. “Thank you.” He said, and it felt like his mantra today. “Hey would you, let me take you to Coney Island? Tomorrow.” Bucky figured he had enough money for that . . .
“No.” Steve made a teasing face. “Coney Island is gross and full of tourists. Lets go . . . We can check out a museum. It’ll be quieter anyway.”
Bucky leaned into the counter a bit, starting to feel more comfortable with Steve’s honesty. “Well how am I going to get you the large bear with my sharpshooter skills?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, pleased with his tease.
Steve looked concerned. “You can shoot a gun?”
Bucky gestured with his hand he wasn’t being serious. “I got an Airsoft gun one year for Christmas.” Bucky looked down at his feet. “For six months I bought nothing but pellets for it. I may have been a little shit.”
“Well, we’ll see what we do tomorrow. I have class in the afternoon.”
Bucky clicked his tongue. “I have class in the morning.”
“Get together for lunch time?”
Bucky nodded slowly, then faster. “Yeah, our campuses aren’t so far away.”
The kitchen started beeping. “Oh!” Steve ran around the counter and pushed off the oven. He got out a pan that was full of casserole.
“Shit, you can cook? I was half expecting two hot pockets laid out on a pan.”
Steve sent Bucky a loving glare. “Stuff it, jerk.”
Bucky was laughing “Punk.”
~
They ate on the couch, Steve had the 7 o’clock news turned on and they made idle comments to each other.
“That guy is an idiot. It wasn’t the dogs fault if he was acting like a jerk.” Bucky got heated over things like animals. Steve nodded, mouth full of food.
“And if she hadn’t left her dog out all day it probably wouldn’t even be a court case right now.” Steve jested his fork toward the TV.
“People.” Bucky muttered.
“Let’s just save all the animals on the planet. I’ve been wanting to get Phil a friend while.” Steve put his free hand on Phil who was resting between the two of them on the couch, but sitting closer to Steve. The cat perked up at the use of his name and looked upset. “You could use a friend. Someone to run around with, cut off some pounds.” Phil shook Steve’s hand off of him. “Oh I know it’s just a lot of fur, you’re right.”
Bucky was watching the exchange, absolutely tickled by Steve’s level of dork. “Is this what you do? Living here alone, arguing with the cat.”
Steve laughed. “Yes. It’s not as lonely as you’d think.”
“I was thinking it was. I live in a house with 20 other people, but my room is secluded and it makes me feel lonely.” Bucky mused lightly. “Not often, but, it happens.”
Steve nodded, he started picking out meat pieces and letting Phil eat them off the fork. He looked like he was thinking. “Would you like to stay here tonight?” Steve looked to Bucky who was attempting to suppress a blush. “O-on the couch, dork.”
Bucky felt the couch with his flesh hand. It was soft. Phil jumped off the couch, not wanting to get touched. “You know, I don’t see why not.” He smirked to himself. “But you do barely know me.”
“Hmm,” Steve seemed to consider this for a moment. “You’re right. I don’t even know what your mark looks like!” He smiled evilly toward Bucky. “You’ll have to show me before I can let you stay here.”
Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. He wasn’t- it’s . . . He had never actually shown another human being his ass before. No matter how many times he told people to kiss it.
“Wait . . .” Steve set down his plate so he could face Bucky better. “It’s not on your . . .” Steve looked down at Bucky’s lap.
Bucky’s mouth opened, just a little, could people even get it on their dick? Bucky was sure someone could, there was probably pictures on the internet.
Steve watched Bucky and eventually his mouth fell open too. “Ohmygod, I’m- I’m, you don’t have to show me. You can stay. I—uh.”
“It’s not on my dick!” Bucky finally said. He let relief come over Steve’s face before saying. “It’s on my ass.”
Mortification flooded Steve and blood flooded his face. He was nearly a tomato before Bucky placed his right hand on Steve’s shoulder. “It’s fine, just get me some PJ pants and I’ll show you. Jeans make it kind of hard to—“
“No, you don’t understand.” Steve had this ability to sound extremely dramatic at times. Bucky leaned away, confused. Steve’s mouth looked like a goldfish’s while he mustered up an explanation. “For the last number of years, like, since I started looking at porn, I’ve really like the idea of . . . Owning someone. Not involuntarily! Not without consent! Never that!” Steve looked ready to cry at this confession. Bucky reached out a hand to hold Steve’s which were fiddling with each other in his lap. Bucky was amused, but he kept his resting face composed as Steve continued his explanation. “But, having a partner, who asked to be mine, who wanted proof of it too, so I would . . . Would write my name on their ass.” Steve took his hand back and stood up from the couch.
Bucky so dearly wanted to laugh out loud, this was the best possible explanation of the position he could have asked for. He wasn’t sure Steve could handle that so he placed his plate down as well and stood up with him. “Hey, hey.” He put both hands on Steve’s shoulders. “I like that.” He looked sheepishly down, realizing his metal hand was touching Steve. “I mean, we’ll get there when we get there, but I’ve never had parents before, or a family that wasn’t fluid and changing. I always wanted someone who stayed constant, who had me and I could never forget it because it was written on me, sort to say. Physical proof of having a constant.”
Steve met Bucky’s eyes, Bucky looked back, unflinching, what he said was true, he liked this. His shoulders and chest began to burn with the need to hold Steve, which he realized, he couldn’t do without Steve discovering his arm. Steve shifted toward him and Bucky let go, turning away to pick up his plate.
“Get me some looser pants so you can get a good look at this.” He glanced over his shoulder to see Steve’s confused look, but it wasn’t an untrustful gaze. Bucky hoped Steve would suspect there was a bigger issue here and not that he didn’t desperately want to hug Steve. He picked up Steve’s dish as well. Steve walked toward the door that was his bedroom.
Bucky brought the dishes to the immaculately clean sink and felt weird about leaving them there, dirty. He picked up the sponge and poured soap on it. He washed the dishes and was in the middle of it when Steve walked in with pants and a shirt.
“Oh thank you!” Steve smiled. “These are the biggest PJs I own. I actually can wear this shirt as a dress, so it should be baggy on you.” He placed them down on the clean part of the counter. “Bathroom is on the left, my room is on the right. I put out a toothbrush for you too. I’m going to put my PJs if you need me”
Bucky dried his hands off and picked up the pile of clothes. It felt pretty baggy. He got ready for bed in the bathroom. He noticed the toothpaste was some sort of prescription toothpaste to prevent tooth decay. He searched idly for something like he usually used, there wasn’t any, but curiosity got the better of him when he opened the mirror and found it full of different over-the-counter prescriptions. He stood there staring; there was an inhaler in the mix as well. A knot welled up in his stomach, he had clearly seen something he wasn’t suppose to, these things looked serious. Bucky shut the cabinet and shook his head. A desire to protect Steve continued to grow in his gut, he felt it would crush him soon like a swelling ocean wave. He couldn’t see a bad side to that happening. He brushed his teeth with the toothpaste available.
The PJs were neat. They were superhero themed pants and a large black ‘I ♥ NYC’ t-shirt. The shirt was baggy, but the pants were a bit tight. Bucky accepted that they would get kicked off in the night.
He plopped down on the couch and pulled out his backpack, which had his phone in it. No missed calls. One text from Natasha, from hours ago. ‘Are you marked for each other?!’ Bucky smiled but didn’t answer. She’d know eventually, but she was more perceptive than most, she probably already knew and just wanted confirmation.
Steve came out in PJs that were matching top and bottom, made of the same material, with a collar and buttons on the long sleeved shirt, the pants came down to long and engulfed his bare feet. He was so . . . adorable, Bucky decided.
“Alright, lay it on me.” He sat down on the couch next to Bucky. “Not like actually, just let me look at it. Don’t sit on me.”
Bucky rolled his eyes. He pulled down his pants and boxers together and looped the hem in the cleft of his butt and around his left cheek, revealing the neat letter’s that invited him into Starbucks.
Steve giggled, leaning in, but still keeping distance. “That’s my paper-writing handwriting.” Steve shifted his weight to pick up one of his hands. “I want to, uh, may I?”
Bucky blushed, but he took Steve’s wrist in his right hand and guided his fingertips over the raised flesh. Bucky shivered and Steve jerked his hand away. “Just tickles” Bucky explained, but Steve already had his hand all the way down. Bucky pulled his pants up and sat back down.
Steve was grinning, touching his fingers to his lips.
“What?” Bucky smiled too, on principle.
“Don’t get a lot of days like today.” Steve moved so his back was against the arm of the couch and his feet were touching Bucky’s thigh. Bucky realized he craved a touch like this, trusting, casual, lazy. Steve went on, “I know it sounds mushy but I thought about this day a lot. I honestly didn’t know weather I would get paired with a girl or a boy.” Steve looked away. “At the very least, I know my parents would have been proud. They told me it didn’t matter what happen . . .” His eyes glazed over.
“I wish I had thought about it more.” Bucky tapped lightly on the top of Steve’s foot. “It hadn’t occurred to me I’d be gay until I found my mark.” He exhaled. “I haven’t told my foster Ma yet . . . But we have time for that. I’d like you to be there when I tell her.” Bucky looked to Steve through his lashes. Steve nodded idly. “Tired?” Steve nodded.
“It was a long day.” Steve took his feet away and placed them on the carpet. Bucky scooped one of Steve’s hands in his and pressed the knuckles into his lips. It made him feel warm inside. Steve leaned forward and placed a kiss on Bucky’s hairline.
Bucky hoped this was enough not to feel burning tonight. He could tackle telling Steve about his arm tomorrow, or just later, but not right now. He laid down on the couch.
~
It wasn’t. Bucky woke, sweating buckets, a headache raging, pain seared him, and he was fully awake before he realized that he was indeed screaming. Frustration boiled within him, he looked to Steve’s bedroom door, it was swinging on it’s hinges. Steve was next to him. Bucky sat up, attempting to capture his screams. Steve placed a single hand in the middle of his back and it felt like a cool glass of water. Bucky didn’t even try to stop himself as he wrapped two arms in a bear hug around Steve’s middle, Bucky’s face getting buried into the small shoulder. Steve laid his arms over Bucky’s shoulders, embracing him. Bucky cried. He hiccuped into Steve’s shirt as liquid soiled Steve’s collar.
Steve began cooing him. “It’s alright, I’m here, we’re—“ Steve coughed. Bucky loosened his grip on Steve, but the smaller one didn’t stop coughing. Steve brought a hand to his throat. Bucky didn’t think, he just ran to the bathroom, grabbed the object behind the mirror and handed it to Steve. Steve gave Bucky a wide eyed look and then used the inhaler, his breathing regulated and he made a few healthy gasps.
“T-thank you.” Steve said as he placed the inhaler down, then reached a hand out to Bucky’s left arm. Bucky didn’t back away. Steve moved his hand over the slip, moving it slightly, the way skin doesn't move. “Take this off.” Steve whispered, almost as though he didn’t want to say it out loud. Bucky moved silently, rolling the t-shirt sleeve up and taking a fistful of the slip that extended out over some of his chest. He shimmied the slip down and in the dim light, the metal still reflected relentlessly. Bucky brought the slip all the way down to his wrist, where the metal chain link bracelet stopped it.
Steve examined it in an unmoving silence for a long time, he watched the way light reflected on the metal, and the way it still shaped the muscle of his arm perfectly. Bucky watched Steve’s face the very same way, looking for his thoughts, all he saw was a deep seated interested. An interest in Bucky, to understand him on as many possible levels Bucky would let him.
Steve inched his head forward until he was breathing mist onto the cold metal. Bucky could feel it more intimately than if it were skin. He felt the breath on his upper arm like breath would feel on his lips. Steve pushed forward still and lips were on Bucky’s arm. He gasped. Steve left his lips planted there for a time longer before pulling back.
“Don’t hug so hard with this arm.” Was all he had to say. Bucky started to bring his flesh arm up to Steve’s face, but Steve stopped him and picked up his metal arm. The slip was still over the hand but they didn’t do anything about it before Steve kissed each of Bucky’s fingers. “Are you okay now?”
“Yes, I think, I just needed you to hug me or I was going to . . . Die, I think.” Bucky kept watching Steve hold onto his metal hand.
“A side effect of evading your marker. It only gets worse with time, Bucky, I can’t imagine you would have survived another day.” Steve’s breath became short again, but he didn’t reach for his inhaler.
“Did you experience any pain?” Bucky looked to Steve’s face, hoping he wouldn’t lie.
“Yes, minimal, but not in one moment like you, it was a constant dull pain thorough the day, it got sharper at night, but I estimated I had a week or two . . . Honestly, from what my parents told me, by the time it wakes you screaming you should be dead already.” Steve looked like he might cry.
“I’m okay now.” Bucky assured, rubbing a thumb over Steve’s cheek.
“Stay in the bed with me.”
Bucky nodded.